


Mustache Pep-Talk

by HeroMaggie



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Mustache Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 04:57:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2054508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeroMaggie/pseuds/HeroMaggie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brigid Lavellan inadvertently stumbles upon Dorian talking to his facial hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mustache Pep-Talk

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a friend on Tumblr - I can kinda see Dorian babying the mustache a bit...

Brigid Lavellan was just back from a mission and she was tired, hungry, and covered in dust, blood, and sword grease. She had ducked as fast as was possible into the wing that housed her and her companions’ rooms in the great hope that she could avoid Vivienne and a lecture. The last time she had come back to Skyhold covered in dust and somebody else’s blood she had been subjected to a thirty-minute dissertation on carrying a change of clothes.

Change of clothes? She brought only necessities when she went out for these short skirmishes. Extra weapons, healing potions, food, and a wine skin were considered necessities. Carrots for her Halla were necessities. Armor polish was a necessity. A clean pair of trousers – not so much. So she had slipped into the Keep and had rushed to go find something not covered in dust, grime, blood or grease.

Striding down the hall and picking at a ragged nail, she slowed at the sound of talking coming from Dorian’s room. It sounded like…he was talking to himself. Dorian? Talked to himself? She blinked and pressed herself to the wall right next to the door to his room and peaked in.

He stood in front of an ornate mirror and was slowly sliding his fingers over his mustache. He would tilt his head, eyes narrowing, as he examined his face closer. “Hmm…” he muttered. “Getting a little uneven. Will need to trim you over here. Just a tad, don’t worry any. I won’t cut anything that doesn’t need to be cut.” He fingered his mustache again and turned his head to the side. “Also need to wax you, look at your ends. All ragged. Can’t have that, can we my beauty? Oh no. Tonight I will wash you with the special soap and then use that balm you like so much. Yes I will…” he crooned as his fingers drifted over his mustache. Brigid blinked and covered her mouth as laughter bubbled up her throat. Her eyes crossed as she tried to swallow the noise and ended up snorting. Dorian froze and then whipped around, grabbing his staff. “Who's there?” he demanded.

There was nothing for it, Brigid shuffled into view and blushed. “Er. I apologize Dorian. I heard talking and I shouldn’t have stopped. I am so sorry.”

Dorian relaxed when he saw it was Brigid, but his face grew stern at her babbling. “Inquisitor…Brigid…you abuse my privacy.”

“To be fair your door was open, Lethallin. I wasn’t abusing it that much.” She took a step into the room. “Your mustache is…very handsome today.”

He preened slightly and then stopped. “No, no distracting me. You were listening and now I am embarrassed.” He pouted slightly, glancing at her from lowered lashes.

Brigid gawked for a moment and then backed away. “Ahh…ahh…I did apologize.”

“You know, if Vivienne sees you like that you will get a lecture. You are a disgrace. Why didn’t you bring a change of clothing?” His eyes gleamed devilishly. “You smother your natural charms in all that…dirt.”

“Got to be going. Don’t tell her you saw me and I won’t mention your mustache pep-talk.”

“Deal.” He waited for her to leave his room before turning back to the mirror with a flourish, his hand moving back to his facial hair. “Ahh, now where were we my dear? The balm?”


End file.
